Quandary
by Cynthia Arrow
Summary: Jack and Sawyer have a long way to go in understanding each other. This builds to a slash pairing, just to warn you.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Just borrowing them for a bit. I'll be sure and play nice.

Rating: M, for language. Building up to a slash warning.

Note: I hate it Sawyer/Jack stuff, so why am I writing it? I don't know. Maybe I've read too damn much of it; maybe I think they're capable of doing more than have angry sex against a tree or melt into a puddle of goo at the sight of each other on some random day. This doesn't connect to any particular episode, and I'd probably put it pre-"Do No Harm." However, it contains general spoilers for the whole season. Bear with me. This is gonna move slowly.

Quandary

"Doc!"

I was so beyond tired of hearing that phrase that it almost didn't register with me, except in that deep down place that made me be a doctor in the first place. Though I was beginning to get people going to Sun for minor problems, I was the one that took the brunt of the calamity on the island, whether it was an actual emergency or just a perceived one. It was getting to where I didn't know what to do when I had a half hour to myself.

"Doc!"

The second time, I recognized the voice, and it set my adrenaline going. It was Sawyer, but he wasn't in typical sarcastic form. I was used to his smug, antagonistic presence, winking and barking through my days. But this was a rare version of the man: Sawyer was freaked out.

"Hey!" I called out as he broke the tree line, shirtless and sweating heavily.

"Doc, she's bleeding bad."

"Who?"

"Kate."

"What happened?"

"Get your shit and come on. She's out in the jungle."

"What? Why is she—"

"I could stay with her and let her bleed to death, or I could find you."

Sawyer was already beginning to rummage through my stuff, so I pulled him out of the way, grabbing the wound kit I'd made for myself, everything haphazardly packed into a backpack.

"What did she get cut with?"

"Cut?" He seemed truly confused for a moment.

Grabbing his shoulders, I said forcefully, "With what, Sawyer?"

"Shot. I shot her, Doc!"

I stopped as the world did a nice shift around me, or at least my perspective. I truly hadn't thought him capable of it. My first thought was where the gun was, and what had provoked him in the first place? I felt a little better when I saw that Sawyer was upset, and he immediately began moving into the jungle.

"What did she do?"

He hollered back over his shoulder. "She didn't do nothing! It was a fucking accident! She handed me the gun, and it went off."  
"Where did she get shot?"

"Thigh."

"Jesus. She's probably…"

"I know. She's probably dead, and you all are gonna stone me when this is all over. I fucking hope you do."

"Why didn't you find a closer person to come and get me so you could go back to her?"

"Didn't occur to me, okay! I'm not used to saving anyone's ass like you are. I just knew I needed to find you."  
"It's okay. Did the bullet graze her or go in?"

"In, I think. I never found a bullet."

"Shit. That means it's still in there. Was she conscious when you left her?"

"Yep. You know her. Stubborn. She was trying not to make any noise, you know."

"Jesus, how far out were you two?"  
Up ahead, I saw a small clearing and the sound of running water. Then I heard something that answered my question and made me break out into a cold sweat. Surgery I can deal with, but I was no good in my E.R. rotation. I have a rough time with people in pain. They'd never know it, because I'm still capable of doing my job, but it cuts me so deep I stay rattled for a long time afterward.

I will never forget the sound of Kate screaming. "Oh God!"

"Oh God," Sawyer said beside me, registering her screams in the same primal, wounded way I was, but he was articulating it. And struggling to stay on his feet.

The first thing you always notice is the blood, but I'm used to that. It's like blood isn't really blood anymore, just some sort of scientific proof of injury. But Sawyer was freaked out. On top of that, he wanted to be doing something but he didn't know what he should do, so he just paced and cursed under his breath.

Kate was in her underwear, and she was holding Sawyer's shirt to her leg, making small noises of pain through gritted teeth. For a person who should have been in shock, she was doing a remarkable job of keeping pressure on the wound.

I took her shaking hands from the compress, replacing them with my own and said, "Is anything numb?"

"No. Fuck, no." After a moment, she added, "I'm sorry I screamed. It's not as bad as it sounds. I was just trying to startle myself into not passing out."

"Don't look at it. Okay, Kate? I don't want you to pass out."

Sawyer said, "Why not, doc! Wouldn't it be easier if she couldn't feel it?"

"Sawyer, I don't want her going into shock, and I don't need your help doing my job."

Remarkably, Sawyer didn't argue. He just said, quietly, "What do I need to do?"

"Distract her."

"How?"

"Please don't tell me you're incapable of a distracting a woman. No, shit, wait. First, get out a towel and soak it in that stream." I turned to Kate. "I don't care if you wanna scream, okay. You got shot in the fucking leg. Was this really an accident?"

"Who are you accusing?"

"Never mind."

"It hurts like hell, but I'm not gonna die here, Jack."

"No, you're not."

"My thumb hit the trigger. It wasn't his fault."

Sawyer returned with the wet towel, and I pointed him over to her side. "Hold her hand. Kate, I'm gonna have to look at it. If it hurts, you have my permission to break his hand if you need to."

Sawyer put on a brave face. "I can take it, Freckles."

But when I took off the compress, he looked a little green. I couldn't see the bullet, which meant I'd have to go in to find it, but it didn't look like she was going to bleed out anytime soon, which meant I could take a little more time to make things sterile.

I said to Kate, "Have you moved your leg?"

"Yes, I guess."

"So it doesn't feel broken?"

"I don't think so."

"I don't think the bullet hurt the bone too badly, didn't break it anyway. But I've still gotta get it out."

"Let's go, then," she said, swallowing and closing her eyes.

"I've gotta build a fire so I can sterilize everything."

Sawyer said, "I'll do that, Doc."

"No you won't. I know what I've got and what I'm looking for. You need to come over here." I pressed the new wet cloth into the wound. "You need to hold this here, keep constant pressure. You won't pass out or throw up, will you?"

"Hell no," he said a little too forcefully.

"If there's a choice between pressing too hard or not hurting her, press too hard. You got that?" I looked him dead in the eye and said, "Pain is better than bleeding too much."

He didn't respond, but he sat down beside me. I took his hand and placed it on top of the compress, my hand sliding over his. "Firm just like this, okay?"

"Got it, Doc."

I had been crouched down, and as I stood, I felt the impulse to reassure Sawyer somehow. This was the first time I'd seen him be anything less the confident, even when we'd been torturing him. I rubbed his shoulders for a moment and said in his ear, "She's gonna need you calm."

As I walked away, I could feel the muscles in my legs screaming despite the adrenaline I had going. I said, "Now's the time to turn on that famous charm of yours."

Then I set about building a fire.

In the rush of boiling water in the basin—which was really a small metal makeup case—and sterilizing two soup spoons, I didn't pay any attention to what they were doing. When I returned, burning my hands in the process, Kate was looking worse—sweaty and pale. Sawyer looked better, but I knew it was likely to get much worse. What we were about to do was not pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. I knew I would get through it only because I had to. I was hoping I could say the same for Sawyer. But somehow I wasn't too worried. He's one tough bastard.

"I'm gonna try and get it out now. Here's what I'm gonna do. First I'll press the flesh around the wound to see if the bullet is close to the surface, that way I don't have to dig too much looking for it. That will hurt like hell, okay. I won't lie. If I have to dig, I have no idea what you'll feel. Okay?"

She merely nodded. Sawyer said, "What do I do?"

"Whatever I tell you to. Can you do that?"

"Yep. Let's go."

I have a hard time describing the actual removal of the bullet, as it was frantic and scary and all too adrenaline-filled to go cleanly into my memory. But I remember some feelings fairly well. As you can imagine, we did have to dig around to find it, and she did scream. Not nearly as much as she should have, though. She had a hand pressed to her mouth, her other hand in Sawyer's. I have rarely seen two braver people. Sawyer would shrink from what we were doing, but resolutely take a deep breath and come back. The longer we were at it, the better he was at fighting his impulse to freak out.

I located the bullet, and he had to take his hand away from hers to hold the wound open. If I ever get back, I want to write up his technique for handling a trauma patient. I'm sure the New England Journal of Medicine has never seen anything like an obnoxious redneck using his ingenuity this way. He was straddling her right leg to hold her steady, and he began to insult her. He made it perfectly clear that he was trying to piss her off, but it worked anyway. She wouldn't have let herself scream if he hadn't started saying every vulgar thing he could think of just to bait her. Most of it involved the several graphic ways he wanted to have sex with her, and the more she said, "Fuck you, Sawyer," the worse it got. Eventually, she began to swear at him without provocation. She hardly knew when we actually pulled the bullet out until we showed it to her. At that point, she said she was hurting so bad and screaming so loud everything blurred.

We were faced with the decision to stay put or try to move her, but since it was getting dark, we had no choice until the morning at least. So Sawyer scrounged up some fruit for us and I stayed with Kate. She was fitfully asleep before he got back.

Sawyer and I sat back from the fire, exhausted and still rattled.

"Will she be okay?"

"I think so. She's stubborn."

"God, I wish I'd just stayed on the beach today."

"What were you two doing?"

"I followed her out here. She just wanted to be left alone, but I was bored. Thought I'd pick a fight. Didn't know she was going to dig up a gun nobody knew about."

"I was wondering about that."

"Me too. I don't know how it went off, I swear."

"She says it was her."

"I still feel like it's my fault."

"It doesn't matter."

"Like hell. Did you hear her? I've heard people in pain, but never…"

"Anyone you gave a damn about?"

"Yeah."

"Do you two…?"  
He made a funny face, almost like he figured I would know the answer to that one. "No. Don't get me wrong, I like her. She's tough as hell and she's hot, but I don't know as if I trust her."

"I wouldn't think you needed to trust a woman."

"Not if I love 'em and leave 'em. Kinda hard to do that here."

"I see. So it's nothing more complicated than that?"

"Nope. I've never had complicated feelings for a woman."

How unsurprising, I thought. But his face did register something like regret.

He got up then and went over to the stream to get cleaned up. He was still bared-chested, and there was sweat and dirt and blood all over him. I could only see his outline and hear the splashing noises. My first impulse was to stand there and watch him. That would mean admitting I enjoyed seeing his well-muscled back and shoulders, or at least dwelling on the feelings I couldn't deny, which I was not prepared to do, even to myself. That was a dangerous road. So I went over to where Kate was sleeping, and I listened to her breathing and felt her pulse. Normal enough, considering. We'd moved her to a more comfortable position, and it was beside a tree so someone could lean there and keep watch over her. I was setting my back against the tree when Sawyer came back, his hair dripping.

He stood in front of me and reached out a hand. "If anyone's gonna stay awake all night, it's gonna be me."

"Oh?"

"You need your rest to take care of her tomorrow."

"Sawyer?"

"I don't sleep much lately anyway."

He gripped my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"If she starts sweating or stops breathing or—"

"Jack, I won't let anything happen. And I won't fall asleep."

I don't know why I felt like I could trust him, but I did. Maybe it was because he called me by name instead of Doc. Maybe I was simply shocked that he was being reasonable and nice. Maybe I was just too tired. But I took off my shirt to lay over her legs, to keep her warm, and I went and laid down beside the fire, watching his outline where he sat by the tree. Soon, I was asleep.

to be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still applies

Rating: M, for language.

Quandary (continued)

When I awoke the next morning, a million thoughts buzzed through my head at once but Sawyer had anticipated them all.

He said, "Here's how I see it. You stay here with her. I'll go back and tell everybody where we are. I'll bring somebody back with me, and food. Anything else you need from the caves?"

"No."

"We gonna move her?"

She was still asleep, and I gingerly examined the bandaging for blood loss, peeking beneath it to see how it fared. Under the circumstances, it looked good. But jostling it might be the single dumbest thing to do.

"Not today. Bring Sun with you, okay? Shit, no. I've gotta be here, so she needs to stay there. Get Sayid. He knows a decent bit about gunshot wounds. Whatever you do, keep Charlie from coming out here. He's more of a hindrance than anything."

"Gotcha."

When he was gone, Kate opened her eyes slowly.

I said, "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear my prognosis."

"You'll be fine."

"I know."

"How do you feel?"

"Sticky. Dirty. But that's not new. Can I eat anything?"

"Definitely. Give me a second." I fetched her a water bottle and some leftover fruit. When I returned, I asked her, "Can you still feel your whole leg?"

"Wish I couldn't."

"I'll give you another aspirin."

"Save it. It wouldn't make a dent. It'll be much more useful to someone else."

"How'd you get so tough, Kate?"

"Practice. You gonna ask me about the gun?"

"No. I'd rather not. I've decided if you wanna hide things from people, that's your business."

"What if I hurt someone?"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Just like I know Sawyer's not dangerous."

"Now, that surprises me."

"He's impulsive and violent, but I don't believe he'd really hurt anybody without reason. Hell, he had a reason to hurt Sayid and he hasn't."

"You thought he shot me on purpose, didn't you?"

"For a second. Until I saw his face."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you like me?"

"Sure."

"I mean, do you have a thing for me."

"No. Why?"

"I didn't think so. See, I've been in my underwear since yesterday, and you haven't paid a lot of attention to that."

"I've kinda been busy being a doctor."

"Yes. But you're not doctoring anything right now. And the most you've done is give a nice cursory glance over my legs."

"I'm not inhuman. I did notice."

"But you didn't need to stare." She wasn't smirking. She actually had the most curious look on her face, like she was searching my eyes for something. She said, "Neither did Sawyer."

I just laughed, probably louder than I should have. "He obviously has no problem expressing his lust in other ways. What was it he said he wanted you to do to him? Something about closing your mouth for a while?"

She smiled and shook her head, and I had no idea how to read her. She had been so angry the night before.

"That was just Sawyer being Sawyer. He wasn't serious."

"No?"

"If he wanted me, he'd have tried something by now."

"I don't know. I have a feeling there's a lot that we don't understand about Sawyer. Nobody can be an asshole all the time."

"Is that how you see him?"

"He frustrates me. Do you know why? I think he's capable of being a better person, but he deliberately chooses to be the way he is. What I don't know is why. What is with his constant sarcasm and macho crap and misanthropy?"

"He's protecting himself."

"From what?"

"I doubt he even knows anymore."

"It's like I look into those eyes of his and I see so much that he refuses to let surface."

Randomly, or so I thought, she said, "I woke up three times last night."

"Sawyer didn't tell me that."

"He didn't know. I just opened my eyes and looked over to the person who was sitting beside me. Couldn't tell who it was at first, but then I saw that he didn't have any chest hair. Do you know why he didn't see me? He was looking at you."

"What?"

"He was watching you sleep."

That caught my interest, so naturally I couldn't help but feign disinterest. "So?"

"It was a rare sight, Jack. It's a look I've never seen on Sawyer's face: the look of wanting something you believe you'll never have."

"Kate?"

"I know you must be comfortable with your sexuality. I know that's why you actually enjoy sparring with him. I've seen you pick fights with him. But have you considered that—"

I could have spent time wondering how she knew, but the more pressing thing was to set her straight about. "No. I'm usually more into women, so it's rare that I'm attracted to men. When it happens, it's either someone that I connect with, almost regardless of sex, or it's someone who's undeniably hot."

She grinned and propped herself up on her elbows. "I knew it! I was guessing on the bisexuality. But I knew you wanted him."

"No, I don't. I'm not into fucking people I don't have any respect for."

"Oh, so you admit you've thought about fucking him. How interesting."

"You get some sort of thrill thinking about that or something?"

"No. I'm just…Look, I just think it's a shame you can't see him as a human being. I realize he makes it difficult…"

"What reasonable good could come from me getting to know Sawyer? Besides, he's a prejudiced bastard. Has a new racial slur for Sayid every day. If he's got any inclinations toward men, I bet he'd sooner shoot himself."

"Possibly. Or maybe that's just another part of his protective mechanism. Maybe he's attracted to Sayid and he's covering."

I said, "Maybe," and I went back to examining her, dropping the subject. But the thought of Sawyer with Sayid gave me a heavy, tense feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Seeing them return together—even though Sawyer was giving him hell—certainly didn't make me feel better.

That day, there was a steady stream of people to and from our spot in the woods. Luckily Sawyer had the presence of mind to bring a blanket to throw over Kate so every bored and therefore suddenly interested person in the camp didn't have to see her in her underwear. Sayid looked at the wound and said he could be no help. Any methods he knew would never have been that clean. He said, if it was any consequence, it looked like it would heal with a nasty scar but she'd be fine.

Sawyer was the star of the show, explaining his heroic run through the jungle and Kate's impressive bravery. He even managed to say nice things about me, veiled though they were in sarcasm. Whenever I locked eyes with him, I found myself wondering the exact same things I always did: who the hell was he?

As darkness approached, Kate decided it was high time she told everyone just how brave Sawyer had been during the removal of the bullet. I laughed along with everyone else as she explained his unorthodox way of taking her mind off the pain, and he just grinned and said, "I was only speaking the truth. That was my sacrifice in this whole ordeal." His eyes caught mine, and he looked like the man I expected him to be: leering, sure of himself, a far cry from the one who had hesitantly pressed his hand into the compress, who was shaking as he tried to help me take care of Kate. But I found it easy to laugh, because this was the Sawyer I knew, that I was used to, that I could easily predict.

Then Kate caught my eye and raised her eyebrows.

I was starting to get a little weary of being confused.

That night, Sawyer refused to leave. He also wanted to stay awake all night to watch her, but he hadn't slept in almost a day. He was beginning to get a little grouchy. While he added wood to the fire, I approached him hesitantly.

"I think you should sleep tonight," I said.

"Why? I ain't good enough to keep watch?"

This was Sawyer being ridiculous, and I knew reason was of no consequence. Stupid bastard that I am, I tried anyway.

"You're tired."

"So are you."

"I slept last night."

"Just because you can't stay awake on the job doesn't mean I can't."

"I'm staying up whether you do or not."  
"Fine," he said. "But don't expect me to keep your sorry ass company." He got up then, and headed toward Kate. Sawyer had divulged a secret stash of vicodin, which he'd brought to her and she'd taken to help her sleep. So she was only half-awake and unwilling to participate in our argument.

"Fine. You'll just go to sleep sitting up."

"If I say I'll stay up, then I'll do it."

"Why are you so afraid of letting her out of your sight?"

"I'm not afraid. I just think since I'm the one that got her in this mess—"

"That's bullshit. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"Everything in the world ain't about you. I mean, just because you're a fucking doctor doesn't mean nobody else on this island's useful. I'm real good at keeping my eyes open. Let me do that. Unless you don't trust me."

"I give up. It's obvious you're gonna do whatever you want to do, whether or not it endangers someone's life."

Before I could react, he had knocked me to the ground and was crouched on all fours on top of me, pinning my arms to the ground. He raised a hand to punch me, but I took my now free hand and knocked his other hand off balance, and he landed on top of me, almost knocking out my breath.

Kate was calling to us, but I'm pretty sure the only thing I could pay any attention to was Sawyer's breath coming through the fabric at my shoulder, and the weight of his thighs on top of mine. I have no idea how long we stayed there like that, stunned. Finally, he turned his head and said quietly, in my ear, "I wasn't gonna hit you, you dumb dick." Then he pulled himself off me without offering a hand to help me up.

As he dusted himself off, Kate said, "Sawyer, please get some sleep tonight."

"If it'll keep me away from the King of the Universe, I will."

And he did, settling himself on the ground beside the fire. I perched myself beside Kate, and she gave me a very meaningful look.

I said, "Don't start with me."

She smiled and said, "I don't have to."

Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

If I could, I'd tell you that I easily made up my mind that Sawyer was a first class asshole, and that his knocking me to the ground confirmed it. That would only be partly true. He was an asshole, all right, and the dangerous kind. But there's a difference between touching someone impersonally, touching someone intimately, and touching someone one way while pretending it's the other. You could say I was paranoid, that maybe I was the one trying to keep an intimate touch from seeming quite as desperate as it really was. But there's that old saying—it takes two to tango. Well, it takes two to perpetrate a self-delusion as strong as the two of us were attempting. But just because I couldn't deny my attraction to him—never really had—I could still believe he wouldn't ever own up to feeling anything but annoyance and revulsion for me. And a homophobic gay man can be dangerous, especially if he has a temper, biceps the size of my thighs, and more obstinate will than Kate.

I don't know when I fell asleep. I just know that I woke up before the sun had come up although it wasn't quite dark anymore. Sawyer sat on the other side of Kate and I was laying on the ground beside her.

"Shit," I muttered as I pulled myself up into a sitting position.

"Well, Good morning to you too, princess. Sleep well?"

"She's okay?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"So I could be self-righteous. Seems you did need the sleep more than I did."

"Apparently. How did I get on the ground?"

"Thought you'd be sore sleeping against a tree. Didn't think you'd want to be wrong and sore all at the same time."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You were out cold. Thought you might've swiped a vicodin yourself."

"Sawyer—"

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I know you wouldn't do that. Heroes never do anything wrong."

"Heroes?"

"Self-proclaimed, of course."

"Do they fall asleep on duty?"

"Always. That's what happens when too many people hail you as a hero. Makes you cocky."

"As opposed to those who are just cocky by nature."

"We're well aware of exactly what we're worth." At that, his voice had slipped from easy banter to something rather bitter. He pulled himself off the ground and said, "Think you can stay awake while I build up the fire?"

"Sure."

And we didn't speak until a couple of hours later, when Sayid, Micheal, and Walt arrived.

Ever see four grown men try to cooperate? It works extraordinarily well when those men are friends, because there's always an unacknowledged leader. It works well enough when you've got men that respect each other, because they'll eventually figure out who has to be the leader and who is willing to defer.

Given Sawyer's general hatred of Sayid and hit-or-miss cooperation with me, I was not looking forward to moving Kate back to the caves. My professional apprehension didn't help things. Apparently, we had nothing like a stretcher, so we were basically going to carry her in our arms. It would mean a hell of a lot of soreness in our arms and backs, mainly because they'd be stuck in one position for so long. Not to mention we had to be able to stabilize her leg. I'd rigged up a splint, but it was a little hard to make it completely effective given that I didn't want Kate in too much pain. So someone would have to spend all their energy on keeping her leg straight.

Sawyer appointed himself the ideal person for the job. It took me a minute of internal debate: jeopardize things letting him do the important job or jeopardize things by pissing him off? Kate just looked at me knowingly, and I sighed and let him have his way. He was certainly strong enough for the job; I hoped I could trust him to be careful.

Micheal carried her head and shoulders, while Sayid—just as strong as Sawyer—stood on her right and supported her lower back, one hand there and one firmly gripping her ass. In a very sly way he gave Sawyer crap about that, but Sawyer was focused. He was on her left, and he held out both arms straight and supported her thigh and the splint. I stood opposite him, beside Sayid, and held one arm under her knees below the splint, the other under her calves, my hand holding her left leg still.

It was precarious lifting her, but we did well once we got going. Walking sideways through the jungle is not exactly fun, but we had a system. We went feet-first so that Micheal didn't have to walk backward. Walt carried our stuff and navigated all the dips and roots and streams. Kate kept us entertained, I think to take her mind off the jarring pain in her leg. Finally, she did cry out, and we came to a halt.

"Shit, Doc," Sawyer murmured. "Help me."

"How?"

"My arms aren't keeping her steady."

"Let's switch."

"No. I just need another arm. Put both of yours under her knees. I think it'll be okay if her knees are bent."

So I moved my right arm from her calves to under her knee, then I slid my left arm between Sawyer's. With our arms alternating like that, we had a much better grip on Kate's legs. I could feel the sweat covering his arms, and his forehead dripped on her splint. He leaned over her, his head nearly meeting mine. He said, "That's better, Doc. Much better." He turned his arms to grip my elbows with his hands, and I did the same. He locked eyes with me briefly and turned to the others, saying, "Let's mush."

to be continued… (I know this wasn't much of a cliffhanger. Just trust me and read the last chapter.)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still going strong.

Rating: M, for language and sexuality (nothing graphic here at good ole not that I'd write it anyway). Slash warning too.

Quandary (continued)

I'm glad we didn't have a watch to see how long it took us to get back to the camp, but we had plenty of people waiting for us when we finally got there. My arms were sore as hell, but we got her settled and everyone volunteered to watch her and keep her company. That afternoon, when I was satisfied that Kate would be fine without me for a little while with Sun taking care of her, I went out to a pool I'd found only a few days before and stripped down to my underwear to take a swim, reckoning the my boxers needed washing as much as I did. I tried to decompress, but I could still feel Sawyer's arms against mine. My mind wandered back to the only time I'd ever given in to temptation with a highly unsuitable man, and it had been wonderful but made me feel empty inside. I don't need all the fingers on one hand to count the times I've had random sex with a person I didn't care about or respect. And I never liked it.

Of course, I'd never been stranded on an island with one.

And underlying it all was fear. I know I'm no dog, but I also didn't believe I had the charms to loosen someone from their homophobia. Not that it was even advisable. If Kate hadn't told me what she told me, I'd have been just fine, with Sawyer on the periphery where he couldn't get to me. But to think he had a heart, even a small, tortured one…

I've never been able to resist the tortured ones.

I was dripping dry on a rock, dangling my feet over the edge and into the pool, when I heard footsteps coming through the jungle. I expected Sawyer to chuckle and make a crack, but he didn't. He just shed his shirt and climbed into the water in his jeans, dunking himself just long enough to wet his hair. Then he sat down in a shallow spot so that only his shoulders and head were visible above water.

"Howdy," he said.

"Hi."

"Wanted to talk."

"Oh?"

"Gettin' tired of high school tensions, so I thought I'd just ask you some things straight out."

At that, my heart thumped in my chest, mainly because I had absolutely no idea where the conversation was going.

"Okay."

"You screwing Kate?"

I laughed, nervously for some reason. "No."

"Why not?"

"Among other reasons, I don't want to. Why aren't you?"

"Who says I'm not?"

"She does."

"Well, I told you all that before. But you're surprised."

"A little."

"Because everybody's got this idea that Sawyer will fuck anybody with breasts."

"If you had something to gain."

"Fair enough. What else do people say about Sawyer?"

"What?"

"I'm not trying to pick a fight. What do you call me behind my back? Seriously."

"The list is endless."

"Asshole. Bastard. I don't give a shit about nobody. I'd just as soon kick a person as help them. I think I'm God's gift to the world, only I'm too selfish to bother with lesser mortals."

"I'm sure someone's said that last thing about me."

Sawyer laughed then, a small, warm laugh, and shook his head. "Point is, I'm persona non grata on this island. Why?"

He knew the answer, but he wanted me to say it. "Because you wanna be."

"Would you be surprised to know that's not precisely true?"

"Very."

He started to speak, but instead he got out of the water and sat down on the rock beside me, but not too close. He sat indian-style facing me, staring at me as I watched water drip off him and run down into the pool.

He said, "Sawyer's got good qualities. He's tough. He's determined. He's clever as hell when he's of a mind to be."

"I know that."

"I know you do. You may claim to hate me, but you don't, really. You halfway admire Sawyer."

"Sometimes."

He uncrossed his legs and drew them up to his chest, and I could nearly feel the apprehension in his voice until he sighed and his sawyer bravado returned. He said, "So I'm in a quandary."

"Oh?"

"I think you noticed how I flinched every time Kate screamed yesterday. I think you felt sorry for me, and I don't blame you."

"It's understandable."

"Not for Sawyer."

At this point, I was more than a little confused—by his actual words and by the quiet, sincere way he said them, despite the bitterness in his voice. I asked, "Why do you keep talking about yourself in the third person?"

"Because that sensitive soul you met for five minutes the day before yesterday was not Sawyer."

"Who was it?"

"Sawyer's a name I made up. The name my momma gave me is James."

I didn't know what to say, so I just stared at him and let him talk.

"I like being Sawyer. It's fun and I don't have to feel anything that I don't wanna feel. But James has a way of popping up despite my best efforts."

"Is James so bad?"

"No. That's the trouble. He ain't nothin'. He fades into the background. He's got other problems."

"Oh?"

"Do you know how hard it is to be a faggot in Georgia?" He looked at me briefly, searching. "I suspect they're a little nicer in the big city."

I didn't even wonder how he knew. I was a little too surprised to be anything besides honest. "Sometimes. Or maybe they pretend to be."

"I shouldn't really feed you too much of a line of bull. Nobody ever beat me up, but that's because most didn't know. And it ain't like I was the only one in my predicament."

"Being gay's not a predicament."

"It was for me. Thought it was because I was too sensitive."

"That's a bullshit stereotype."

"I realize that. Don't think for a minute that Sawyer, tough and hateful as he is, don't crave men. He just hates himself for it. I ain't two people. I know that. Up here." He pointed to his head. "But I still feel split in two sometimes."

He got quiet for a minute, but I didn't have any clue as to what to say or where this conversation was going. I was still reeling from hearing Sawyer use the word 'faggot,' especially in conjunction with himself. I had an impulse to touch him, but I also had an equally strong fear of that. So I just watched and waited for him to keep talking.

"See, Doc…Jack, I'm in this quandary. You like Sawyer. Unless I'm blind and you're in more denial than I am, he turns you on in all kinds of ways. But all he's good for is fuckin' and runnin'. See, James…he's the one that wants you, and he don't fuck and run."

Before I could speak, he got up, saying, "Tell me to go to hell if you want. I just wanted to lay my cards out on the table, so to speak." He picked up his shirt and was almost threading back through the jungle before I managed to speak.

"Can't I like them both?"

He stopped and turned.

"I don't know."

"You don't have a split personality. You're both of those people. How the hell else could you be so guarded and open right now, at the same time? How could you bite back your fear and help me dig a bullet out of someone's leg? Let me ask you—does Sawyer give a shit about me, or is it just the part of you that you hate that does?"

"I hate every part of myself, Jack."

"I feel like I don't know you."

"You don't."

"It's hard for me to even believe you could have these feelings, for me of all people."

Sawyer looked a little shocked, but he walked back over to the rock where I sat. He said, "Here's how it is: You need a bad boy. Every hero does, really. I need a fuckin' hero. Every gutless wonder does. Besides, how else am I gonna stop having these damn sex dreams about you. Always creeping into my space, with your broad chest and your brown eyes and your absolute faith in everything."

"Even you?"

"In my dreams."

I smiled in spite of myself. "I don't know what to do. Maybe I should ask you what you want from me."

"I'd say it's obvious," he said, running his hands over his hair and looking almost sheepish—except for that very knowing glint in his eyes.

I said, "Sawyer is a colossal pain in the ass. He's precisely the kind of pain in the ass that I try to avoid, because he looks too good and I lose all ability to reason."  
"I seriously doubt that. I have a feeling you're practically superhuman when you get laid on a regular basis."

"What about you?"

"Gentle as a lamb."

"I hope the hell not," I said, standing. He pulled me closed to him, looking into my eyes quizzically. Then he kissed me. Instantly, I knew I hadn't been lying to him. I think he is both people at once. He kissed me like I knew he would—feverishly, but with a practiced technique, nonetheless wonderful. The feelings behind the kiss, however, were surprising, though they shouldn't have been. This was touching someone intimately and meaning for them to know it, to feel it. And it's impossible to fake. As he settled into my arms, he let me take the lead, accepting my tongue in his mouth with something like a purr from his throat. He finally broke the kiss to get air, but he didn't take his hands from around my waist. I watched with interest as a grin came across his face, a slow, warm, genuine grin akin to the ones he gives when he's happily annoying someone, but somehow different.

He turned his head to kiss my hand on his neck, and I said, "Now, what should I call you?"

"I don't care. But there's something I gotta tell you."

"What?"

"I picked that fight with you yesterday, so I could knock you down."

"Really?"

"I kinda just wanted to touch you. And I had to know for sure."

"What were you hoping, that I'd kiss you?"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd get hard. I think it took all my self-control not to."

"You have the most ludicrous ways of going about things."

"I know. But I get the job done. Still, I was little disappointed."

Pulling his hips into mine, I said, "Don't be."

My erection had been obvious before, but feeling it press against his own seemed to satisfy him. He settled his lips onto my neck, the smallest groan reverberating against my throat. "There's something else you should know. James…Well, it's been a long time and he's real desperate."

"And Sawyer?"

He pulled out of my arms and shook his head, "That bastard's always horny. Thought you knew that."

"I should have. Just out of curiosity, did Kate put you up to any of this?"

He abruptly pulled out of my arms, the lust in his eyes disappearing.

"Sawyer?"

"She accused me of being in love with you."

"What?"

"When I came upon her secret gun hidey-hole. We started talking, joking at first, but it got serious. She said I was really looking for you, and she knew why. I was pissed, and I got stupid and decided to jerk the gun out of her hand, just to look at it, mind you, but that's why…So, I feel bad. We should get back and check on her."

"She said it was _her_ thumb."

"Maybe so, but that was my wake-up call. I figure if I've gotta shoot somebody over these feelings I have, they must be pretty damn big. Just don't ask me to explain them."  
"I don't have the slightest clue what I'm feeling either."

"Imagine how comforting that'll be to the other castaways. I'll make you look real stupid."

"Nah. It'll just look like I found someone hot enough to bother the libido nobody thinks I have. Who knows, maybe I'll make you look good."

We stopped talking for a while, instead walking back to the caves together, our minds too confused to continue talking. It was nice to just be together anyway, not even touching. It was only when we were almost there that he stopped me, grabbing my hand to do so.

"You wanna keep this hidden for a while, you know, gradually let 'em warm up to it? Could be fun, sneakin' around."

"Nah. I was thinking I tongue kiss you right in front of everybody."

"You're full of shit."

"Nope. There's no amount of time that will make this less bizarre. Besides, the shock will be worth it."

I'm happy to report that we managed to confuse everyone at the caves, and before long several beachers came out to gawk, or to confirm the most ridiculous rumor they'd ever heard. No matter how many innumerable times Sawyer and I kissed each other that day, it still seemed a little surreal, most of all to me.

-end-


End file.
